Bait and Switch
by K'lara7
Summary: Set during Lost City & TF. How far would the government really go to get the technology John is refusing to share?
1. Chapter 1

Bait and Switch  
Written for the TF Starburst Challenge 66 (hosted by Vinegardog): Wiles (crossovers welcomed)  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers/Time Frame: Terra Firma/ Lost City  
Word Count: 9,535  
Disclaimer: The characters and universe of Farscape are the property of the Henson Co. SG-1 is owned by MGM & Syfy. I have not made any profit off this tale, and I am giving the characters back the way I found them. (Unfortunately that means they are still fiction.)

A/N: I've tried to stay within the episodes as much as possible. This is assuming that Lost City takes place at the end/beginning of 2003/2004. (Grey area, so I'm going with it.) The assumption is also made that Jack Crichton has a sister named Wendy.

I owe a big thanks to Vinegardog for betaing and helping me with all the plot issues as well as the motivation to finish this; and to bblurkinscaper for the encouragement. All mistakes are mine.

John walked into the hangar bay and was greeted by the sight of so many friends and co-workers assembled to meet him and his friends. It was a homecoming he'd prayed for. No one was threatening his friends. There was a general acceptance of them.

Olivia was suddenly hugging him. DK and Laura were there to greet him and he realized just how much everyone else had changed. It was one thing to comprehend that the world continued to revolve without him. It was another to see the differences up close. He was happy for his alien friends, but surprisingly not disappointed to be excluded from his old friends and family.

All too quickly the scientists were pushing in on him. IASA medical technicians were waiting to run tests to see what effect prolonged space exposure had had on him.

After much arguing, he agreed to the basic blood tests, but refused all radiological exams. John didn't want to explain all the land mines that his body had been through.

Embedded deeply in the commander's blood work were two minor anomalies, traces of an unusual metal lingered in his system and there were abnormal protein markers. The lab technician ran the chemical analysis through the computer searching the database for a match. After several minutes the technician got up to get a cup of coffee. He didn't see the flashing alarm warning of spy-ware on the system.

The pilot was wedged under his F-302, checking on one of the relays under the wing. Only his uniform clad knees, ankles and boots stuck out from the edge of the craft. He was humming under his breath.

"Major Mitchell?"

The noise stopped and he moved out from under the plane to look up at the speaker. "Yes, sir?" the pilot said as he jumped up to attention. Colonel Kirkland was standing next to an over decorated soldier in a class A uniform.

"General Hammond, this is Major Cameron Mitchell. Major, the General has temporary orders for you," Colonel Kirkland made the introductions.

"Pleasure to meet you sir," Mitchell saluted.

"Major, walk with me," Hammond gestured to the hangar exit. As they made their way out of earshot, down the corridor toward the transport bay, the General handed him a sealed envelope. "You've been temporarily reassigned to Patrick AFB in Florida. Of course, with Anubis on the move, this couldn't come at a worse time for us."

"Sir, couldn't they send someone else? I'm needed here. The F-302s are our last line of defense if Anubis tries to invade."

"I am aware of that, but this takes priority. Son, I don't know who you know, but you've been requested by T.R. Holt, he's a special adviser to the President, for this assignment. Perhaps the information in the file will help." Hammond gestured for him to open it. The first page on top was a picture. Any questions about why Mitchell was chosen went out the window as he stared down at a face that could be his. "Well, I guess we know why you were chosen."

As he stared down at the picture, so many questions went through his head at a pace that left him dizzy. Mitchell stopped walking. "Commander Crichton? He's been found?"

"You know him?"

"He was... IS my cousin. A few years ago he was piloting an experimental craft, testing an Earth orbit slingshot maneuver when his craft disappeared following an unusual electromagnetic wave. Although it was assumed he was killed, no wreckage was found. Uncle Jack has refused to allow him to be declared dead. He's returned?"

"I'm not sure of the specifics. There is another ship in orbit around Earth. It's not related to Anubis's fleet and isn't being treated as a hostile contact. IASA astronauts made contact with one person on board several days ago. She answered in English."

"So what's my assignment?"

"I don't know. I haven't been briefed on the particulars of the operation. I was given that file and told to get you to Patrick. If you weren't assigned to the Prometheus, I doubt I would have been involved in this at all. The Air Force can't send just any messenger to get you." Hammond gestured him to start walking again. "I want you to stay in contact with the SGC. I don't like sending one of my men on a top secret mission without back up. Anubis could attack at any moment and Prometheus will need its flight leader on board immediately."

"Yes sir." Mitchell took that as dismissal, and started to walk away.

"And Major?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Enjoy the family reunion."

Mitchell smiled, "Yes, sir."

Dressed carefully in his Class A uniform, Major Mitchell entered Colonel Douglas's office at Patrick AFB. He stood stiffly and saluted the superior officer who lounged back in his chair. Sitting off to the side was a lanky civilian with a really bad toupee.

"At ease Major," he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat." Mitchell carefully sat down as the officer continued, "How was your flight? Any trouble getting here?"

"No, sir." The casual atmosphere was putting him on edge. Who was the stranger Douglas was ignoring?

"Good. You must be wondering what is so important we pulled you across the world with so little notice."

"There seemed to be a lot of secrecy, sir."

The Colonel gestured to the man standing next to him. "This is T.R. Holt, special advisor to the President. The Air Force will be coordinating with IASA in a situation for which you are uniquely capable of assisting with."

At that, the bureaucrat sat forward, jumping into the conversation. "About five weeks ago IASA meteorology picked up an unusual reading just outside the Earth's atmosphere. A wormhole opened up and this ship came through." The man handed him a glossy picture showing a large golden mass in front of a star field. "Patrick AFB's Deep Space Telemetry Office confirmed it was a ship and not an astrological mass."

Mitchell worked very hard at not smiling at the irony of the situation. Many of the officers at the SGC used Deep Space Telemetry as their cover story. "Has it made contact?" he asked.

"Canaveral's communications center was able to make voice contact with one of the crew members. The woman speaks fluent English. She has stated that most of their crew complement was en route to rendezvous with her and they were way overdue."

"She speaks English?"

"Yes. We have since learned from her that the ship's name is Moya. The crew complement is made up of seven people from seven different species, including a human named John Crichton."

"So he is alive?"

"Yes. I made contact with him three days ago. The crew has finally returned and come to Earth."

"So where do I come into all of this?"

"What have you heard about the ship in orbit?"

"Nothing. Until three hours ago, I wasn't stateside. Access to television has been a little limited."

"Since the media broadcast information on the ship in orbit, there has been some mild panic among the people. Some mild threats have been overheard and we are concerned for the safety of Crichton and his shipmates. Religious fanatics will stop at nothing to make their point. The existence of life from other planets is scary. You cannot imagine the possibilities."

Considering he had been transferred from the front line of Earth's defense against Anubis, he could argue the point, if either of these men had high enough clearance. "So the ship poses a threat?"

"So far," Holt qualified the answer, "this ship has presented no threat to us. We have been invited to take a shuttle up a explore her. Once we have more information, we will know what our plan will be. For now, we may need your unique assistance in providing security for Crichton. Depending on how things fall out, you might be enlisted to act as a security decoy. We don't want to create an intergalactic incident that starts a war with Earth."

Mitchell nodded, "I can see that. We certainly don't want to be fighting aliens."

"In the meantime, you will need to stay out of sight until we know what we want to do next. My staff is preparing you a safe location where we can send all the information we currently have on the situation, get you up to speed. Once Crichton has arrived he can fill you in on anything else you will need to know."

"So I will report directly to you?"

"Yes, and to General Hammond. He agreed to loan you to our office, but insisted we keep him in the loop. Major, whatever you do for the Air Force, you must be a credit to the service. It took a direct order from the President and three weeks to get you here." Holt seemed to be fishing for information.

"Right. That's classified, sir. I was out of communication range for much of that time."

"Your car will be waiting outside for you. I will be in contact."

Taking that as a dismissal, Mitchell stood, saluted the Colonel and walked out of the room. The irony of the situation didn't pass him by. If Holt only knew the real threat to the human race was days away…

T. R. Holt was an ambitious man; and today John Crichton was the key to his success. Since Moya's crew's arrival, there had been constant pressure from the Hill to get the information. Holt wasn't sure what changed, but Vice President Kinsey had also become interested in the aliens and he wanted instant results. Unfortunately, Commander Crichton didn't understand his importance and wasn't cooperating.

Right now, Holt wasn't getting results. But he had a plan. And if the commander continued to stonewall him, he was prepared to take action. He was confident that Crichton could be made to see reason, although so far he had refused to do so. The scientific advances that could be made were astounding and dangerous. Holt had promised the President he would get results. He was going to get them, no matter the cost.

Kinsey had offered the assistance of any resources needed and it was time to take advantage of them. Having made his decision, he placed a phone call.

"Please- Tell me you still believe that," John asked with desperation in his voice.

Jack could only answer him honestly. "I'm not sure what I believe anymore."

His son looked like he wanted to say something more but changed his mind. Jack watched him turn and walk away without a backward glance. He didn't recognize his son anymore. John had become sullen and quiet. Jack missed the laughter, the smiles and the quiet joys of a simpler life.

Jack struck out at the railing and looked over the edge of the parking garage. Why wouldn't John understand? Other countries would take his knowledge and use it against the American people. He didn't understand how much the world had changed while he'd been away.

With a shake of his head, Jack followed. As he entered the hangar bay, he heard John arguing with DK and Laura. That was something he never would have predicted; John and DK arguing. He heard John respond, "It's just a riddle. Why do prowler pilots turn to goo? Get back to me on that. I'm gonna get a refill of coffee. You guys want some?" John walked out of the bay while his friends looked on with disgust.

Looking up, Jack noticed two of the aliens were in the corner talking by the ship. They were watching his son's movements with what could only be described as concern. The grey girl gestured in the direction his son had gone and pushed the tentacled guy after him. As the tall alien left the room, Jack realized he'd never talked to his son's shipmates. That was real concern he saw in their eyes. Maybe they could shed some light on the changes he'd noticed in his son.

"Chiana, right?" Jack asked hesitantly, as he walked up to the grey girl.

"Yeah, yeah that's- me." She scanned her eyes up and down him once. "You're Crichton's sire."

The word was an odd description for father. It seemed to say a lot about her culture. "Yes. Do you know where he went?"

"He's probably gone off to zone out," she said.

Her choice of words threw Jack for a loop. "Zone out?"

"He does that sometimes when his thoughts get heavy. He says he has the weight of the world on his shoulders." The girl tilted her head to the side and looked up at Jack. "You know, for as long as I've known Crichton, all he's dreamed of is home. He's fought so hard to get here and no one wants him."

"That's not true. Everyone is happy he's home."

"Are they happy he's home, or excited about the technology he might bring? It's not about him, is it?"

"You don't understand. The government has invested a lot of time and money into the Farscape project. It is not unreasonable to get something back from it."

"You don't get it!" she practically shouted out him. Her voice reminded him of a screeching cat. It was the first time he'd ever seen her show any negative emotion. She lowered her voice as she realized people were starting to stare. "Your world and mine really aren't so very different. They both want what they think John has. Earth is supposed to be his refuge. The one place he can feel safe from everything else. Up there, on the other side of the galaxy, there is a war on. It's nasty, and dangerous. Crichton is trying his hardest to keep Earth out of it."

"That's why we need John to give us all the information he's learned."

"Crichton's always saying that if you don't learn it yourself, you can't use it responsibly. What would your people do with the technology? If only one country had it, what would it be used for?"

"It would be used to create a better defense system, to protect Earth."

"For the whole planet?"

"Of course," he answered succinctly.

"But who decides who controls it? If the technology can protect a planet, can it be used to attack the people? To keep them in fear? Crichton believes this information can be used to control the people. To make them conform to what your government desires."

"I suppose it could be, but it wouldn't. John has nothing to be afraid of. He doesn't know what he's talking about. Holt and the others wouldn't use it that way."

"A single government having all the information will eventually try to control everyone else. The establishment will control what you do and what you think. It will take everything over until you have no free will."

The grey girl's attention was suddenly caught by movement over his shoulders. Jack turned to see the Luxan coming over. "I wasn't able to catch up with him. He left the compound and the guards at the gate wouldn't let me follow him."

Jack looked at the Luxan. "They wouldn't let you off the base?"

Chiana looked over at Jack with a quizzical look. "Your people fear us and we're on your side. How would they respond to others? Shoot first, ask questions later?"

"Or by dissecting us?" D'Argo added quietly.

"Crichton's always going on and on about this place. It's all he's dreamed of for as long as I've known him, and now that he's here-" she broke off to collect her thoughts. "He- he once told me that the space program only took the best, is that true?"

Jack puffed up with pride. "Yes that's true."

The girl looked puzzled. "So if they only take the best, why don't they listen to him, trust him?"

"Your people can't stop fighting long enough among yourselves to agree on how to use the technology, how can you show a united front against an enemy? "

Mitchell found that the frustrating thing about working for and taking orders from the government was that you worked on someone else's schedule for someone else's agenda. He understood that right now John dictated the schedule, but he would have liked to have seen him.

This secrecy thing was driving him crazy. No one was telling him anything about his mission. He was here in an inconspicuous government safe house cooling his heels drinking coffee while his squadron was preparing for a dangerous mission without him. The Major didn't like being on the sidelines, he preferred to be part of the action.

He was channel surfing in the living room when he heard one of the guards answer the phone. A moment later that soldier came in to announce it was finally show time. Cameron was looking forward to seeing John again.

Frustration laced every nerve of John's being. The fight with his father was normal, but his disagreement with DK bothered him far more than he would let on. He wanted to share the information with his friend, but he knew that anything he shared with him would be shared with the government. Something about Holt rubbed him the wrong way and he didn't trust the man.

Lost in his thoughts, he made his way across the parking garage to the government car waiting for him. The driver jumped out and opened the door for him. He got in and buckled up as the driver slid onto the seat in front of him.

"Where to?"

"My father's house," John replied, not looking up. He had to get ready for the two media interviews he had agreed to. There had been many opportunities to make appearances, but these were the only two he'd accepted to take part in. Both shows had agreed to give him the questions ahead of time and not deviate from the script. He opened the folder to look over the questions and prepare his answers.

As the car pulled to a stop in front of a fancy high fenced house, he realized they weren't anywhere near their destination. "What are we doing here?"

"Someone wants to speak to you," the driver said as he turned to him. In his hand was a small caliber pistol.

John nodded toward the gun. "I take it this means I'm not getting a choice in this?"

"No, sir. My orders are quite clear. I will subdue you if I must."

"I see," he said with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Well then. Let's get this over with shall we?" He made a jerking motion toward the door.

"Hands up! Slowly reach out to open the door. No sudden moves. Trust me; you don't want to be the hero."

Flashes of Braca aiming a pulse pistol at him with similar useless threats came to mind. "You're not gonna shoot me. Holt wants what I know. He's not about to risk it. So you do what you have to do, I'm leaving."

John pushed open the door and dive rolled out of the line of fire, just in case he was wrong. He crouched down to left of the building entrance making sure to keep sight of any possible threats. He was moving forward to stand and run when a voice behind him spoke up. "Stop right there or I will shoot."

Looking over his shoulder he caught sight of a familiar looking blond woman holding a strange snake like gun. "No, I don't think you will risk killing me either." He stood and turned toward her. "Alex?" he asked in surprise. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

"Hello John," she stepped forward confidently pointing the strange gun at him.

"Now be a good boy and step inside."

"No," he smirked. "I don't think so. You're not gonna risk killing me."

"This won't kill you; it just renders the victim unconscious. Save us all some trouble and come quietly."

Shaking his head, John responded, "You know I've never been quiet. I'm hardly going to start now." Keeping his eyes on her and the gun he backed toward the gate. He was almost through it when she shot him. With a jolt of electricity, darkness overtook him.


	2. Chapter 2

John awoke with a start. It was almost déjà vu with the similarities to they day he woke up on Moya all those cycles ago. He quickly took stock of his clothes and his surroundings, a trait he had learned from dealing with too many God like aliens.

Somehow he'd kept his clothes this time. It was strange how uncomfortable jeans could be on a cold floor. The cell was made of rough concrete. There was a single cot on the far edge. All in all, it eerily reminded John of the cell on the Gammak Base. As he sat up from the floor, he saw two men looking through the cell bars at him.

"You can't keep me here forever. My crew mates will figure out I'm missing."

"We have a decoy in place. For your friends' sake, you'd better hope they don't figure it out. We might have to speed up the timetable of our research…" he paused for effect. "Someone might get hurt."

The thought that his friends might be hurt because of him was hard to deal with. He worried that Aeryn would push too hard. She would probably figure it out first. It wouldn't take D'Argo and Chiana much longer either to figure out they weren't talking to him.

"So what do you want from me?"

"A little cooperation would be nice. You won't share your technology. You won't tell us anything about your travels. You've refused to submit to any biological tests. What are you hiding?"

With an ironic huff, Crichton responded, "I'm not hiding anything you need to know. And everything you want to know should be shared with all the world leaders, not just the U.S. of A."

"Then agree to the testing. It will only take a couple of days to complete."

"I won't do that. I have the right to refuse service and I choose to exercise that right."

"Maybe if you stay in this cell for a while, you'll change your mind."

Crichton shook his head in disbelief. There was no way it was going to be that easy. He wondered what TR Holt was planning next.

"Let's begin our tests with sensory deprivation. You don't need light or sound, do you Commander? Food is probably not necessary either. Maybe a few days of that will make you more willing to cooperate."

The lab technician left the room. A few moments later, Crichton found himself in the dark, the room was still and quiet. For now Crichton counted himself lucky. Whoever had thought this would disturb him didn't realize he lived in a converted cell. Darkness on Moya was normal. It was merely the quiet that irritated him. Moya was never quiet. Her every breath echoed her walls.

As for intimidation tactics, they could learn a thing or two from Maldis or Scorpius. For now, he would let them think they were getting to him.

Outside the cell block two technicians were discussing him. "How long are you going to wait for Crichton to crack, Logan? He may be tougher than anyone knows. We have no idea what he's been through to survive. All the Intel we have suggests his personality has drastically changed in four years. So either he's been through a great deal or this isn't John Crichton."

"I am aware of that, Drake. There is a reason I have been pushing to get the DNA testing. This could well be a copy, clone, or Goa'uld for all we know. What's he hiding? We do have to figure it out quickly. His crew mates will not be fooled for long by the decoy."

"For now the decoy's schedule is set with public appearances. We have maybe three or four more days. I can try to get you two more, arrange a weekend off, like a public vacation for him. If we set it up so that he won't see his crew mates in that time, they will never know. If we don't get results soon, we may look to more aggressive forms of persuasion."

"So we'll run the tests by force?"

"If we must. Although I would prefer his cooperation since the results would be more accurate. If we have to drug him, the drugs will contaminate the results. A calm and cooperative subject is best."

"Calm? I don't know how calm he'll be."

A voice coming down the hall interrupted, "That's why I'm here. I can probably get the subject to talk more quickly." The speaker, the blond woman from earlier, stepped into the room. "Commander Crichton and I go way back."

"And you are?

"Doctor Alexandra O'Connor," she said as she walked up and flashed an identification badge. "I will be taking over the interrogation of the subject."

"Now wait a minute. You can't just come in here and -"

"Yes I can. Holt requested me personally. If you want to question those orders, go ahead and give him a call. In the meantime, this is my assignment now. Your assistance would be welcomed, but is not required."

As the lights came back on, John looked up through the bars at the woman before him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. "Alex. It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has."

"I see Stanford must have agreed with you. You look well," he lied. His ex-girlfriend had changed a lot in seven years. The changes were so radical; he was amazed he recognized her. She'd had a fair amount of plastic surgery over the years.

"So do you, John." The silence was thick.

Patiently waiting for her to get to the point, John sat back on the cot and stretched out. He figured she must work for the government. He wondered what that must pay. The prestige alone would be enough to get her to compromise any principles she used to have.

"You do realize that whether you help us or not we will get the information we want."

"There's that super villain handbook at play again." Looking her up and down, he began to wonder if it was even her. Sure, the woman looked like Alex, spoke like her, but there was an intensity in her eyes he wasn't used to. "Who are you really?"

"You know who I am, John."

"No, I know who you are pretending to be. So tell me, Alex, what exactly, do you want from me?"

"Cooperation. You know so much that could help us. Why are you being so selfish? The information you hold is the very reason we explore space. You should want to share it."

"That's not going to happen. I have one simple demand. It has to be shared with the entire planet, equally. It's a simple proposal. They brought you in to get me to flinch, didn't they? Obviously that's not working. I am not going to flinch."

"John," she said with concern. "If you don't start working with them, they will force you." She took out the key to unlock his cell. John watched warily as she came closer to him. In her hand she had a folder. He took it warily, keeping an eye out to make sure she didn't try anything.

"And this is…"

"This is the report on your blood work that was done when you first got back. There was an unusual chemical in it. I need to know what caused it presence, John. I'm worried about you."

He looked over the print out. "Naquadah? What is that? Never heard of it before."

"It's a very rare metal, found only in meteors. How did you come across it?"

"Not a clue. I don't even know what it is."

It had been an exhausting few days with appearances on Nightline and 60 minutes. Mitchell was looking forward to a "relaxing" weekend with John's flight attendant friend, Caroline, although fishing wasn't his thing. John owed him big time. He could understand why his cousin didn't want to do these public appearances, but he really would have appreciated some coaching from him first.

What he didn't understand is why the government was afraid for John's safety. The whole situation didn't make any sense. Yes there were a few religious fanatics that just couldn't grasp the concept that there was life beyond Earth, but no direct threats had been made toward John and his friends.

The agent in charge of the Moyans' security had assured him that he wouldn't need to stand in much longer. With Anubis on the way, Mitchell was grateful to know he would be returning soon to his regular duty station.

He grabbed a cup of coffee, sat down on the couch in the hotel room and turned on the news. Of course all of the channels were covering the aliens. The media speculation would be humorous if it weren't for all the negativity. He was about to turn the channel when the broadcast switched to interviews with John's shipmates. In all of the interviews he had done he was expected to know these people. So far his schedule had kept him from meeting them. How was he supposed to step in for his cousin when he didn't know any of the information?

Up to this point he had been speaking in a carefully worded script. All of the questions had been vetted ahead of time so he could be coached in his answers.

Cameron couldn't wait to meet his cousin's friends. They looked like an interesting bunch. Anytime they came on the news he watched them to get a perspective on what they were like.

Ka D'Argo reminded him of Teal'c. Mitchell had only spoken to the Jaffa a handful of times, but he seemed to have a lot in common with the Luxan. Noranti reminded him of his grandmother, full of philosophical insights no one wanted to hear.

Officer Sun was very quiet and unassuming. She moved with a stealthy grace that screamed warrior. Of all of the aliens, she seemed to have the best grasp of the English language. It wasn't just the way she spoke; it was the unconscious ability to interpret it, like she had spent hours listening to it.

Aeryn sat in the mansion watching TV. Since coming to Earth, she'd felt drawn to the colorful images. For cycles she had listened to Crichton natter on about his home world. From this box in front of her she could absorb so much of his culture. She didn't think she'd ever truly make sense of him, but she now understood so much more.

Earth really was alien to anything she'd ever seen. The children weren't herded into units from birth, families stayed together for years.

She was just about to switch off the TV and join the others when Crichton's face appeared on the screen. The channel was announcing their exclusive interview with him. Aeryn settled back on the sofa to watch.

A few minutes into the stiff conversation, she noticed something was wrong. He was answering the questions he was asked, but the answers weren't quite right. Maybe he didn't want to give them the real information, but it was more like he only knew half of the details.

There was something wrong with the way he was sitting. While he was stiff, he seemed more disciplined than normal, almost soldier like. She switched off the TV and went to talk to D'Argo and Chiana.

Mitchell stepped off the stage feeling like he'd been wrung out. The news anchor had gone off script with questions he had no idea how to answer. Most of the questions revolved around John's friends. Typical of rating hunters, the anchor wanted to be the one to get exclusives that no one else had heard. Unfortunately Cameron couldn't answer most of those questions. How could he when he hadn't met any of them?

This was the last public appearance John was scheduled to make, and Cameron was looking forward to get back to the Prometheus.

He was walking across the studio parking lot toward his assigned car when a woman stepped in front of him.

"Officer Sun? Uh what can I do for you?"

"That's not funny John."

Damn, his cousin really should have taken the time out to coach him. He had no idea which way he was supposed to play this. It seemed that John hadn't let this woman in on the plan, which seemed so wrong. "I didn't mean—Uhm, that is—," he stumbled to a halt. "Let's try this again. Hi, I'm-," before he could finish, he felt a sharp slap to the back of the head and fell to the concrete, out cold.

"Come on D'Argo, get moving. We have got to get him out of here before anyone realizes he's missing. I want answers."

Major Mitchell's driver noticed he was overdue from the taping. Since many things could have delayed him, he entered the building to look for him. The guard at the door said he had left the building on time.

Concerned, the driver called his supervisor to report the major missing. A quick phone call to Patrick AFB led to a relayed message to the Pentagon where General Hammond was awaiting word on Anubis's latest movements.

Within moments the general had called up two of his best people to look into the matter.

Major Samantha Carter looked across the coffee table in Colonel Jack O'Neil's house at Dr. Daniel Jackson. They had been waiting to hear from the general, but thought it would take a lot more time. The news that they were needed to quietly conduct a search and rescue operation took them completely by surprise. It must be an important assignment, or Hammond would never have asked with Jack so sick. Assuring the Colonel that they would be back as soon as they could, they stood by to be beamed aboard the Prometheus. They quickly changed into non-descript green BDUs, and within moments they rematerialized inside a secured room at Patrick. A few minutes later they were met by the typical sleazy government suit, a man who introduced himself as TR Holt.

While Carter was talking to the Prometheus and getting a fix on Mitchell's transmitter, Daniel was looking around at the cultural wonders Crichton had brought back. The most fascinating object was a golden pyramid with symbols on it. He recognized the Eye of Ra on one side, and Ancient writing on another. He was confident that if he had more time to study it, the findings would be fascinating.

He was still holding the object when Sam entered carrying a file. She made her way over to him. "General Hammond was right. Major Mitchell must have been taken to the alien vessel. His beacon isn't transmitting from Earth. Passive scans on the Leviathan don't penetrate her hull. I think we should just beam aboard her and see if we can find him."

"Sam, the ship is alive and sentient. Don't you think it would notice if we beamed aboard her?"

"Of course. But do you have a better idea?"

"Not really."

Sam nodded.

When Cam came to, he found himself staring up into golden rafters. He'd never been here before, of that he was sure. He did a quick inventory and found to his dismay that his clothes were missing. Well most of them anyway. At least he was still wearing his boxers. He turned over onto his stomach and found his clothes hanging in the corner next to the barred door.

The three day hangover feeling was starting to dissipate and the dizziness was settling in. He made his way over to his clothes keeping an eye out for any hostiles. Gathering his clothes up, he made short work of putting them on. A squeak outside the doors brought his eyes up to a yellow metal drone that seemed to be staring at him. The room he was in was stark. It appeared to be a jail cell and although he had plenty of room to move, he had nowhere to sit.

He scooted back into the most defensible position and waited for his captors to arrive. The ground wasn't cold, and it seemed to vibrate under his feet. There were no markings on the walls so he didn't think he was on a Goa'uld ship. Everything around him was alien, so he was probably on Moya.

As he took in his surroundings, movement at the door brought his head up. "Officer Sun."

"You know my name," the woman responded coldly. "What's yours?"

His brow scrunched up in confusion. "You don't know?" She shook her head. "Cameron Mitchell. It's a pleasure to meet you, finally," he said with just a tinge of irony.

"Where's John? Why are you pretending to be him?" the Luxan said as he came up behind her.

"I thought he was with you. The government thought he might be in danger, so I was ordered to fill in for him during his public appearances. John didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't."

"Why did you take off my clothes?"

D'Argo spoke up, "Aeryn said you were an imposter. We had to make sure. Crichton has some distinct scars that you don't have. That means you are not a copy."

"Of course I'm not a copy and you could have just asked."

"And I suppose you would have told us the truth?" Aeryn asked with disdain.

"I have no reason to lie to you. I'm only here because John needed extra security."

"You're here to protect John by pretending to be him?"

"Yes. High profile people often hire look-a-likes to deflect security concerns away from themselves. I'm on loan from the Air Force. I was requested for the assignment because I look like John. It also helps that he's my cousin."

Aeryn vaguely remembered John mentioning he had a cousin in the military. He should have mentioned that he was a dead ringer for him. "So where is he?"

"I thought he was with you?"

Beaming on board Moya went very smoothly. No one seemed to be around to see them when Jackson and Carter materialized in the Center Chamber.

Carter immediately pulled out her tracking scanner, looking for Mitchell's signal. The scanner immediately pinged and they quietly made their way toward it.

"Officer Sun?"

"Yes Pilot?"

"Two intruders were just spotted by the DRDs outside the Center Chamber. They are making their way toward you."

"How did they get on board?"

"We don't know, they just appeared. They appear human."

Mitchell had been sitting quietly throughout the exchange. "I think they might be here for me. When I didn't report in, my commanding officer would have called for reinforcements."

"What is their purpose?"

"They're only going to be here to rescue me. If I am recovered without incident, nothing will happen. It's standard extraction protocol."

"Where are they now Pilot?"

"Just down the corridor from you."

"Chiana!" Aeryn called on the comms.

"I see them Aeryn, I'll bring them right to you."

"Thanks," Aeryn replied. She turned back to Mitchell. "You're military?"

"Yes, a pilot in the Air Force."

Aeryn nodded. Before she could ask another question, Chiana entered with two more American soldiers who had their hands up, but weren't armed to begin with.

D'Argo opened the cell door and waved them in to join Mitchell. "Now start talking."

"Pilot, have you been able to isolate that metal in the scans?

"Yes Officer Sun. Moya has pinpointed the coordinates for you."

"Thank you, Pilot." Aeryn turned back to Major Carter and Dr. Jackson. "So this metal is going to lead us to Crichton? How?"

Sam glanced at Daniel, then back to Aeryn. "Naquadah is a metal not found on Earth. Any traces of it are extremely rare." She opened the folder she had been carrying. Pointing to a line of incomprehensible numbers, she continued. "This is a copy of Commander Crichton's blood work. There are extremely minute traces of it in his blood. Your own samples of his blood confirm the metal's existence. I'm sure that the coordinates your Pilot pinpointed the metal at is where the Commander is being held. We need to find him quickly."

"Why?" Aeryn asked.

"We believe the people who took him are working with a Gou'ld who lives here on Earth." Daniel raised his hand to stop the questions. "Gou'ld are parasitic worms that are really nasty bad guys. They take human hosts and control them. Anyone in our government could be a host." Carter paused and looked at Moya's crew. "And when a symbiote leaves the host, trace amounts of the metal and distinct enzyme markers are left behind."

Daniel asked the question that had been on Sam's mind from the moment she read the report. "Was Crichton ever taken over by such a creature?"

Chiana answered first, "There- there was that virus."

"D'Argo, do you remember Sykar?" Aeryn asked.

The Luxan nodded. "The worm that ate the tannot root?"

"Yes." She turned to the humans to explain.

"So let me see if I understand this. People get infected with a worm that takes over their body and controls them? Like an intellent virus?"

"It's not a virus, it's a parasite. The worm, known as a Gou'ld takes hosts and makes the host do what it wants to do. The host has no control, no way to stop the actions of the creature."

"And this worm, it leave traces of this metal in its host when it leaves?"

"Yes, when it is forced to leave or dies. It is very rare for the host to survive when the symbiote does not."

"And you think that what? I'm controlled by one of these worm creatures?"

"You have to be to have the naquadah in your blood. So which God are you?"

"I'm not a god. I've met many god-like aliens, but I've never gone to the dark side. So I can't help you."

Alex raised her voice, "Who are you? How did you claim this host? How long have you possessed him? Answer me at once!"

"No, I don't think so." He paused, "Since you know so much about these god-like aliens, maybe you're one of them. Which one would you be?"

Since he wasn't expecting an answer, he was shocked when her eyes glowed and her voice changed. "I am Athena and you will answer the question."

She dragged him off the bench and threw him to the floor. As he tried to stand up, she reached out a hand toward his forehead.


	3. Chapter 3

They came around the corner to find John kneeling at the feet of the woman Aeryn had only seen in Olivia's photo album. She had a gleeful expression on her face as she applied some unknown device to his forehead. John was shaking and twitching.

Aeryn didn't hesitate; she fired her pulse pistol, hitting the woman in the chest. She fell hard to the ground, dead before she hit it. Her sightless eyes glowed once and went blank.

Suddenly released from the force holding him up, John fell to the floor. He quickly tried to push up, fighting to remain conscious and get moving. He heard his friends arrive, but couldn't really see them yet.

"Aeryn?"

"I've got you John. But I need you on your feet."

"Yes, Ma'am." His vision started to clear and he looked up to see D'Argo and himself? Had these creatures duplicated him? "Um… Aeryn who is…?"

"Really Johnny? How could you forget me?"

"Cam? What are you doing here?"

"Long story. We better move before any reinforcements arrive. We don't know who Alex might be working with. Let's go." He led the way back out to the gate. Somehow they got lucky and made it back to the car without incident.

They never noticed the shadowy figure sneaking into the building. Ba'al made his way back to the dead woman. He got there just in time to save the symbiote. "You underestimated your enemy, Athena. Don't worry, I still have need of you."

John awoke aboard Moya. He didn't know how he had got home, but he was so glad to see those yellow ribs. Movement at the door brought his eyes up. Aeryn was standing there, looking at him. He rolled onto his side and said, "This is real, right? Home?"

Aeryn nodded. "Yes."

"How did you find me?"

A voice in the hall asked, "Is sleeping beauty awake yet?"

"Yeah, I'm awake." He shook his head to clear it. "Cam? How did you get here? I was told that you're serving in the Middle East?"

"I'm supposed to be, but you just had to get yourself into trouble. You managed to piss off some powerful people."

"Yeah. I guess."

"I got pulled off a front line assignment to come here and assist your security detail. I was told you wanted me to step in for you when you went out in public. Something about threats being made against you."

"Obviously they wanted you to cover for me so they could interrogate me."

Aeryn walked over to where Caroline was frantically trying to silence Bobby. "Don't stop - I'm interested in the answer."

Offensively, Caroline answered, "Wanna tell me why you want to know?" She had always been good friends with John and while she knew he would never be the one for her, she didn't want to see him hurt. Although she had spent very little time with him, she had noticed changes in his personality. And this woman was responsible.

"That's fair. John and I were in a relationship."

"What kinda relationship?" she asked as she stood up, encouraging Aeryn to walk with her.

"It was complicated."

"Yeah - I can imagine," she responded without thinking. She quickly corrected herself, "Well actually no - I can't imagine. John and I had a much simpler one. No strings, no plans... Just - good casual times. Well at least, that's how it was before."

"And now?" Aeryn asked tentatively.

"Aah-," she hesitated. "Now he doesn't even want that much." At least, she didn't think so after her brief time with him. While he would always be special to her, he wasn't hers. No, his heart belonged to this alien.

"But he's been spending time with you."

Since she hadn't really spent anytime with John, she chose her answer carefully. "I think he's been testing himself. Working out what he really wants. It's not me."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not. You still want him - don't you?" Caroline asked, hoping the answer was yes. This woman was the key to her friend's happy ending and from what she could see, he had earned one.

"Yes. But it doesn't matter. He doesn't want me either," Aeryn replied fatalistically.

"I think he does. When I asked him about you, he said - there was nothing going on... He said that several times." That is, he said that several times during the one conversation she had had with him. The rest of the time he'd supposedly been spending with her, it was actually Cameron she was with.

"That's bad."

"You have a lot to understand about humans. Sometimes when we repeat a lie - it means that we're trying to convince ourselves of the truth. And that is - that he still loves you. Very much." Caroline stared at this woman who was trying so hard to conform to the human world. Caroline knew she was the key to John's heart. Now if they could just get their acts together.

Mitchell walked out onto the landing pad. John's shipmates were loading their cargo onto the transport pod. He figured this would probably be his last chance to talk to them. After the party tonight, he doubted he would ever see any of them again. The latest Intel they had estimated Anubis would be in orbit within hours.

"Hey, I wish I could stay and help sort this out, but I just received orders to return to my regular duty station in Colorado. You have your job to do, and I have mine. Man, it's moments like this when I wish I could be in two places at one time."

Everyone went still and silent. "What? What did I say?"

As everyone continued to stare, D'Argo broke the silence. "My friend, I would not wish such a fate on anyone."

"Nor would I," Aeryn whispered with feeling.

"Don't worry about us," Chiana added. "We've gotten this far."

Rygel entered the conversation, "This job you do, it's dangerous?"

Mitchell nodded, "You could say that. But it's a job that needs doing. In fact- as much as I don't want you guys to go- you need to get out of here before the real space monsters show up."

D'Argo blinked, remembering John saying something similar; but John knew about Peacekeepers and Scarrans, Mitchell didn't. And that was a heartfelt statement. "Peacekeepers or Scarrans?"

The Major gave them a strange look. "Neither, Earth has its own set of enemies; we can't handle anymore right now. They will be here at the gate soon enough. Moya needs to be gone before they do. They will shoot first and ask questions later. We don't yet have the capabilities to protect your ship, too."

"This invasion, Earth is prepared for that?" Aeryn asked quietly.

"We hope to be. We have a plan, and I'm needed with my squad."

"Oh great! The humans have a plan," Chiana snickered.

"I hope your plans work out better than Crichton's," Rygel scoffed.

Aeryn stepped forward and looked into Mitchell's eyes. They were so like John's but without the pain. The resolve in them, also like John's, indicated just how dangerous his job was going to be. Again the resemblance struck her. John was no soldier, but if he was, he would be this man in front of her. One was so emotionally erratic, the other carefully contained. "You fly safe."

"I will. And you take care of my cousin." He leaned forward and whispered in Aeryn's ear.

"We will," Aeryn answered forcefully as she stepped back.

Mitchell stepped back and saluted. John's friends would take care of him. Shaking off the moment, he turned back to the hangar.

Daniel held out the child's tile. "Commander Crichton, it was a pleasure to meet you."

"You too, Dr. Jackson. Keep the tile. You're the one person on this planet who can appreciate it. And maybe one day you'll figure out what its connection to Earth is."

"So you're not staying then?" he stated, more than asked.

"No," John said without hesitation. "I know this is impossible to understand, but I'm still needed up there."

Jackson nodded, "I'm probably the one person who does understand. And for what it's worth, you're making the right choice. Earth is nothing without the one you love," he said with the weight of experience in his voice.

John nodded and turned away. It was time to make an appearance at a Christmas Party in his honor. He made his way down to the hangar where all the VIPs were getting together. Chiana and D'Argo were meeting him for this one.

As a pensive John entered the room, Cameron pushed himself off the wall and walked over to him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Mitchell asked.

John looked at him and then away. "They'd be overpriced at that fee."

"Come on, Johnny, talk to me."

"I just don't know where to begin."

"How about you start by admitting you're leaving Earth and you don't know when, if ever, you'll be home again?"

John looked at him incredulously. "How did you—"

Mitchell raised his eyebrow. "Carter looked over your equations and figured it out. Besides, I've met Officer Sun, remember? You would be a fool to give her up. Girls like her; they are one in a galaxy."

"She is amazing, isn't she?" John responded with a secretive smile and so much feeling.

"And right now, she wouldn't be happy here." Cameron chose his next words carefully. "John, you know what I do for a living is classified, right?" John nodded. "You need to take your friends and leave for now. The planet won't be unprepared if your enemies get here. Trust me to take care of our home. We aren't as disorganized as you fear, we just need time."

The irony didn't escape John. "There's never enough time, is there?"

"No, there isn't. For now your place is on Moya, with Aeryn. Your job is to protect your crewmates. And watch you six. You don't want to be taking any of my space monsters back through the wormhole with you. You really should fill your dad in before you leave. It may be the last chance you ever get."

Jackson and Carter quietly beamed into Colonel O'Neil's house. From there they headed back to base for an important meeting with Dr. Weir.

"So as IASAs project director for extraterrestrial studies, I hereby invite all nations to participate in the ongoing Farscape mission."

The crowd was clapping with enthusiasm as Holt backed away from everyone. No one noticed his eyes flash.

Mitchell met with Hammond at the Pentagon for debriefing. To say the General was angry about Holt's subterfuge was an understatement. Nothing could be done about it now.

Bre'tac had just come with news that Anubis would arrive within days. Strategy meetings were being held. Mitchell was stuck in Washington for the moment, awaiting the return of the Prometheus.

John's father said with desperation. "Stay. Look - we'll guard the wormhole. We'll... We'll set up a defense shield. Nothing'll get through."

"No, I have a job to do," he said, ironically. "It's your words again."

"I don't want to lose you son. I can't shake... this feelin that you're not comin' back."

"I'll be back. That's a promise. You take care of my home," John said as he hugged his father.

"It's a promise. Take care of yourself."

Quickly, before he could change his mind or get talked out of his decision, he turned and made his way to the transport pod.

In the Oval Office, President Hayes' latest confrontation with Vice President Kinsey ended badly. Kinsey stormed out, leaving silence behind. Hayes looked at the officers still in the room. "You're all welcome to join him."

The first officer responded, "I think you know we're staying here with you, sir."

Nodding, the President looked at Hammond. "God knows George, you deserve the right to go."

The General responded calmly, "No, sir, I think I'll stay as well.

"Good. Well if you'll accept it, I've got another job for you."

As Moya flew through the wormhole, it closed behind her. Her sensors never picked up the multiple ships headed toward Earth.

Hammond and Mitchell materialized in the transport room on the Prometheus. The General turned to the pilot and said, "This will all be over in a few hours. Remember we have support from MacMurdo if we need it. Good luck, Major. I'll see you when you get back."

"Good luck, sir," with a salute Major Mitchell turned on his heel and strolled off to his squad. He was already going over pre-flight checks in his head. He hoped the mechanics had his bird ready. There was no time to check it himself.

Hammond watched him go with a sad look on his face. In the face of the enemy, he knew many of the soldiers under his command would die today. He counted one more he would know personally. Shaking off the dark thoughts, the General turned toward the command deck.

He strode on to the bridge and announced, "Col. Kirkland, we have orders. Let's get this bird in the air."

Mitchell sauntered into the F-302 bay stepping toward his fellow pilots. He announced, "All right, boys and girls, listen up. We've got a change in plans. New orders from General Hammond. We are no longer going after Anubis's mother ship. SG-1 is on its way to Antarctica in a cargo ship."

Adam Banks, his RIO, asked, "SG-1?"

"They think they may have found the Lost City of the Ancients."

His wingman, Redmond, asked incredulously, "In Antarctica?"

Mitchell responded, "It doesn't matter where they are or what it is they're doing. It's SG-1 and we're going to cover their asses. ETA is nine minutes. Expect the enemy to throw everything they have at us. All right, saddle up, folks."

Taking a deep breath, he headed over to his bird. Superstitiously, he ran his hand over his name stenciled on the side of the plane. He had the eerie feeling that he would never see it again.


End file.
